


Family

by CocotteJenn



Series: Warden Nemea Surana AU [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Kirkwall, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Multiple Suranas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 03:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocotteJenn/pseuds/CocotteJenn
Summary: While looking for Anders in Kirkwall, Warden-Commander Nemea Surana meets a woman who may actually be part of her long lost family.





	Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [no_id_no_person](https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_id_no_person/gifts).



> A holiday present for my dear friend @no-id-no-person. Nemea is her OC.

******KIRKWALL, 9:33**

Nemea had seen worse places. _Smelled_ worse too. Darktown was a sewer. It reeked of shit and death and other foulness she didn’t want to think about. She had travelled into the Deep Roads, battled broodmothers, killed an Archdemon, dealt with Oghren, and debated with nobles. The stench wasn’t nearly as bad as any of these things, but _Maker!_ How Anders could bear it every day was beyond her comprehension. 

All right, what did Carver say? Turn left, and then left again? Or was it right? She tried asking the locals for directions, but all of them gave her the stink eye. Maybe a few coins would loosen their tongues…

“Don’t bother,” a voice rang behind her. “They’re never going to give him up to you.”

She turned around to come face to face with another elven woman. She had soft features, peppered with freckles, not unlike Nemea’s own complexion. And behind her disapproving frown, she had beautiful grey eyes that shone like gemstones. Their colour seemed to shift depending on the angle of the light, reminding Nemea of quartz crystals she had once seen in the Circle.

While Nemea was short, even for an elf, the stranger was shorter. She didn’t seem like much of a threat. Nemea figured she could easily best her if it came to it, but she knew not to judge a person's strengths and weaknesses on appearance alone. She herself was proof enough that size did not matter when it came to magic.

“You obviously don’t belong here,” the woman continued. “Your armour looks too fancy for you to be living in this dump.”

“No offence, but you don’t look like you live here either.”

She was cleaner than the rest of the people living down there. And even though she had a small figure, she looked better fed than most of them.

She snickered. “You’re right, I don’t. I’m here on business.” She took a step forward, her frown deepening as she laid eyes on the metallic griffon adorning her shoulder. Nemea adjusted her cape to hide the emblem. Too late. “That’s the Grey Wardens heraldry. What do you want with the healer? Are you here to take him back? Because he’s not going anywhere with you.”

“Says who? You?” Nemea wanted to laugh, but she refrained herself. A crowd had started to form around them. There was no need to start a fight, she didn’t want to hurt any of them.

The woman took another step forward, trying to look threatening. “Says everyone! He’s helped these people more than anyone else ever did. He’ll never go anywhere with you.”

Nemea’s hand was already on the hilt of her sword, ready to strike her opponent at the first sign of trouble, when a voice boomed from the crowd.

“Nemea, stand back!”

Everybody turned toward the newcomer. There were audible gasps among the people as they stepped away to let him pass.

“Anders? What in the Void are you doing here?” the woman asked him.

“Saving your arse. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

She scowled. “Do you know this woman?”

Anders gave Nemea an apologetic smile. “Yes, I do know her. She's a friend.”

Nemea smiled back. “It's good to see you again.”

She pulled him into a strong hug.

“It's good to see you too, Nem.”

Anders escorted both women back to his clinic. The stranger was in a surly mood. She kept glancing in Nemea's direction as if she were trying to decipher her deepest secrets. Nemea herself wasn't entirely sure of what to make of her. She had a shady look about her, but Anders seemed to trust her, and Nemea trusted him with her life.

The inside of Anders’ clinic looked only slightly better than the rest of Darktown. The smell, at least, wasn't as bad. He must have scattered scented herbs around the room, Nemea mused. Clever, if a little wasteful.

The three of them stood in awkward silence for what felt like an eternity. Anders’ eyes kept darting from one elf to the other and back in a mix of hesitation and curiosity.

“Are you going to make some proper introductions, or should we just do it ourselves?” the woman asked in a monotone voice.

He took a deep breath as if steeling himself for some bad news. “Ana, this is Nemea Surana, Warden-Commander of Ferelden and–”

“The Hero of Ferelden,” the woman - Ana - gasped, her breath short, her grey eyes growing wide. “Shit! I couldn’t have made a worse first impression if I had tried, could I?”

Anders chuckled. “When have you ever made a good first impression to anyone?”

She looked offended by his remark. “Plenty of times!”

“Name one.” She opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off. “And don’t say Hawke. He’s told me the story.”

“What? Hawke liked me right away! It’s his brother who had a tough shell to crack.”

Nemea smiled. That did sound a lot like Carver. She listened to the two of them bicker with each other. It reminded her of the way things used to be between her and Anders, before the Grey Wardens, before Justice, before everything. She felt a pang of jealousy deep in herself. Oh, how she wished she could go back to this. The easy banter, the playful teasing… She missed him. Ferelden wasn’t the same without him.

She cleared her throat. “It’s fine. It's actually nice to see people so ready to come to his defence.” She gave the woman a reassuring smile and extended her hand toward her. “You can call me Nemea. I'm not here on any official business, Grey Wardens or otherwise.”

“And you may call me Ana,” she replied with a smile and a strong handshake.

Beside her, Anders nudged Ana's elbow slightly as if pushing her to say more. She seemed very reluctant to do so, however. When he poked her with a little more insistence, she answered back with a punch of her own. He groaned, rubbing his painful shoulder.

“Anyway, here's what you asked me for,” she announced cheerfully, handing him a small leather pouch.

He tugged on the strings to open the little bag. A frown appeared on his face as he looked inside to inspect its content. “Is that all you could get me?”

“Athenril would have my hide if she knew I was not only stealing her goods, but also giving them away for free. I'm sorry, Anders. I can't do better without looking suspicious and risking my position.”

“I understand. Thank you, anyway.”

“I’ll leave you two alone. If you have need of me, you'll probably find me at the Hanged Man.” She gave the two mages a polite farewell before leaving. “I need a drink. Or ten,” Nemea heard her mumble as she walked out of the clinic.

“She seems nice.”

Anders snorted. “She's a pain in the arse. Not unlike a certain someone,” he said, poking her nose. “But she's got a good heart. She's been helping me take mages out of the city safely.”

“So that's what you've been doing all this time? Helping refugees, saving mages, befriending shady smugglers?”

He laughed softly. “Believe me, Ana is far from being my shadiest friend.”

So he did have friends. _Good_ , Nemea thought, _he deserves to be happy._

“Don't take this the wrong way, I'm happy to see you again,” he moved on. “But why are you here? Ana can be a little blunt, but she's right about one thing. I'm not going back to the Wardens. Not after what happened.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were all right. The way things went down…” She looked away, her voice breaking at the memory. “Are you sure this is wise for you to stay here? Kirkwall is a templar-infested cesspool-”

“Which is exactly why I need to be here. This is where people are the most in need of help. I can't turn my back on them.”

For a moment, she wondered how much of this was Justice’s doing. Maybe the carefree young mage she'd known as a kid had grown into a selfless protector, a hero for the poor and a champion of the oppressed. She hugged him.

“I'm proud of you, Anders. For stepping up, for helping our people.” She held onto him tight. “I’ll always be there for you if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Nemea. I appreciate the offer.”

When she pulled away, Nemea noticed something strange in his eyes. He looked hesitant, as if there was something else he wished to confess.

She folded her arms across her chest and gave him  _ the look. _ The Warden-Commander look she used to boss people around the Vigil. “Alright, what is it?”

“What is what?” He seemed suddenly very interested in cleaning up the dirt under his fingernails.

“Don't play dumb with me. You're making that face that says you're hiding something. Something I should know, but you're not sure you want to tell me.”

“I-” He sighed. “It's not really my place to say anything.”

“Is it important?”

“I think it is.”

“Does it concern me?”

“Kind of, yes.”

“Then I need to know. You should tell me.”

He hesitated again for a moment before giving in. “I believe you and Ana might be related.”

That took her by surprise. She had never met the woman before and nothing in their meagre interaction suggested that they might share a bond. Then again, Nemea didn't remember anything from her pre-Circle childhood. Maybe she did have a long-lost family waiting for her somewhere.

“Related how?”

He shrugged. “Sisters, maybe? Possibly cousins. There's no real way to know for sure. Not without accessing your Chantry files, at least.”

“What- what made you come to such a conclusion?”

“Her name, Ana. It's short for Surana. She grew up an orphan, that name is all she's got left of her family.”

She rolled her eyes. “So, what? You think just because we share a name, she's my little sister?”

“Older, actually. But it wouldn't surprise me. There are enough similarities between the two of you to entertain this possibility.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “She looks nothing like me.” Ana had dark hair instead of blond, to begin with. Her general features were softer and she had those eyes…

He poked her nose playfully. “I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you. The long face, the high cheekbones, those freckles…” he enumerated. “Besides, it's not just your facial structure. You’re both strong, dedicated and compassionate young women.”

“You must have me confused with someone else.”

“All right, you’re also a little more humble than her, but I stand by my point.”

“I don’t know, Anders. It seems like a long shot.”

“Look, I think you should go talk to her. If anything, you'll gain a loyal friend.”

For as long as she could remember, Nemea had always wanted a family. She had been four years old when the Templars had taken her to the Circle. Her memories of that time were faint. She couldn’t even remember her own parents. Maker, how she despised the Chantry for what they had taken from her and countless others.

What she did remember, however, was Goldanna, and Alistair’s nervous hopes being crushed by disappointment after meeting her. Ana wasn’t Goldanna, but she was still a complete stranger.

“What else can you tell me about her?”

They sat together on a bench. Anders’ smile grew wide as he started sharing the most improbable stories about Nemea’s newfound sister.


End file.
